


First Time

by Alexwritesfics



Series: Dreaming of a Home [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Andy the knight in shining armour, Attempted car theft (not by the boys!!), Brief threat of violence, Cute Ending, First Meeting, Fluff, Implied Smut, M/M, Re-upload, night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexwritesfics/pseuds/Alexwritesfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas' night out on the town with Daisy turns dangerous - but a kind young stranger might be able to help him out of a tight spot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaxen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaxen/gifts).



> This was a request from Kaxen, and part of my Mod!AU. Enjoy! P.S. Warning for a possibly unflattering portrayal of Philip the Duke.

'My ears are bleeding.'

‘Oh, stop being so dramatic about it, Thomas. I can’t see any blood from where I’m standing.’

Thomas sighed and rolled his eyes at his companion for the evening, a sprightly young thing named Daisy Robinson. He'd been friends with her for years, and he could tell that their meeting tonight was to distract herself from something else entirely. He’d been out for coffee with her before she’d roped him into seeing a concert - now he was tired, suffering from a monstrous headache, and wanted nothing more than to drive home and collapse onto his sofa.

'The evening is young, Thomas,’ Daisy said, arm linked in his.

'Yeah, but I’m not,’ Thomas replied, reaching over to push his glasses back in place - he’d needed to wear them a lot more often due to long nights fixing clocks with painstaking precision. 'I’m not as durable as I used to be. And it’s Tuesday night, Daisy! Why did I even agree to this in the first place, I have to be up by seven bloody 'o’ clock tomorrow…’

'Don’t worry about it… I mean, come on, you're your own boss! You’re always in the workshop. Why won’t you take a little time for yourself?’

'I know you’re upset about breaking up with Alfred, but-’

’-It’s not about that! And we’re not broken up, we’re just… On a bit of a break.’ Daisy sighed as they walked through the streets, other concert-goers making their way to the train station and car parks. 'And besides, I wanted to see you,’ Daisy persisted. 'Phyllis is worried about you, she says you’re focusing too much on your work and it’s getting in the way of more important things.’

'My work _is_ important, thank-you very much. And is this about me being “lonely” again?’

'She says you haven’t been the same since Phillip.’

'Can we not talk about that dickhead right now, please?’

Daisy huffed another long-suffering sigh. ‘Alright. Come on, we should do something fun-‘

’-Daisy, _please…_ I have a headache from the loud music.’ Thomas stopped and took Daisy’s hands in his own. ‘I’ve had a good time and it was great seeing you, but I’m going through a bit of a rough patch where business is concerned and I need to focus on it so I stay afloat. I wouldn't know what to do without my shop... And please tell Phyllis that I’m okay, she's already been through so much for me. I don’t want her worrying over me unnecessarily.’

Daisy bit her lip, but nodded despite the concern in her eyes. ‘...Alright. But you call me if you need anything, alright, Barrow? No shutting yourself away like you always do. We just care about you, Thomas.’

Thomas smiled and nodded, another wave of exhaustion hitting him as Daisy leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He was so tired… But he had to keep going with the commission sitting on his work table if he was going to have it ready by the deadline. The clock really was a thing of beauty, but the additional decoration was proving tricky.

'Do you want me to give you a lift back home, Daisy?’ he asked. 'It wouldn't be any trouble.'

'Oh, I can walk from here.’

'But these streets aren’t always the safest.’

'I grew up 'round here, which I think you keep forgetting,’ Daisy said, laughing a little. 'Honestly, I’ll be fine. I think I’ll call Ivy, see if she’s free tonight.’

'Sounds like a plan. You two stay safe, okay?’

'Like I keep saying, I’ll be fine. But it’s really sweet of you to care so much.’ Daisy giggled as she set off in the opposite direction. 'And call Phyllis yourself, she’s getting really worried!’

~*~

Thomas’ hands shook a little from the cold air as he tried to unlock his car, his head still throbbing. He could still hear music playing from the concert venue, a clash of raw energy and soft melody. He supposed that it could be beautiful, but he was too tired to really process it. He just needed to get home so he could sleep, so he could _think-_

’-Give me the keys.’

Thomas looked up at the unfamiliar voice, blood running cold as he saw someone inches from him with a menacing look in their eyes. ‘Wh-What on earth-?’ He stammered.

’-Give. Me. The keys.’

Thomas bit his lip, knowing he should probably co-operate but nevertheless returning to his default setting of standing his ground. ‘N-No,’ he managed. ‘I won’t do it. This is my car, I-I paid for it.’

'I said GIVE ME THE KEYS-’

’-What’s going on here?’ another unfamiliar voice asked, and Thomas looked away from the threatening stranger to see a curly-haired young man in a worn leather jacket walking towards them.

'Who the hell is this?’ the man currently threatening Thomas demanded.

The other stranger set his jaw, folding his leather-clad arms. ‘…A friend of his,’ he said firmly. The lad was young, no doubt about it, and he seemed rather mellow in temperament despite the effect the leather jacket had. Still, Thomas couldn’t understand why the stranger was pretending to know who Thomas was.

'Oh really?’ the threatening stranger asked with malice, though he seemed to be taking minute steps away from Thomas. 'And what are you gonna do?’

'…Well, I’m not gonna let you take his car,’ the curly-haired young man said.

There was a tense silence, the indents of the sought-after keys beginning to sting Thomas’ skin as he gripped them tightly. And then, finally, the thief backed off, sprinting across the carpark and into the darkness. Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief.

'Sh-Should we call the police?’ the remaining stranger asked, shoulders slumping.

'N-No, no, they probably won’t find him. I don’t think he wanted to do this to me i-in particular, I think he just needed to steal something,’ Thomas replied. He leaned back against the door of his car, shoving the godforsaken keys back into the confines of his coat pocket for now. 'Bloody hell, I can’t believe that just happened…’

'Okay, as long as he doesn’t come back to give you trouble,’ the stranger said.

The more that Thomas could get a proper look at him, the softer and more vulnerable the young man looked. He was doe-eyed and rather pale, cheeks flushed a little from the cold, wearing a red fitted jumper underneath his leather jacket. There were tiny snowflakes resting on top of his curls - snowflakes? And then it occurred to Thomas that it was snowing for the first time that year, and it was growing even bloody colder outside, a world away from the heat of the concert venue.

Thomas nearly kicked himself for not remembering his manners. ‘Thank-you,’ he said, laughing in relief that the altercation with the thief appeared to be over. ‘…My knight in shining armour, eh?’ the clockmaker remarked, rolling his eyes at his own words.

It looked like the stranger might be blushing, but Thomas supposed that it could’ve easily just been the cold. ‘It was nothing,’ the man said. ‘I could see you needed some help. I was just walking back from the concert, and… Thought I could lend a hand.’ He smiled tentatively, and Thomas would be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t a rather pretty sight to behold.

'…May I ask my rescuer’s name?’ Thomas said, adjusting his glasses nervously and wincing as a snowflake dropped onto the edge of the left lens.

'I’m Andrew Parker,’ the man said, and he smiled that cute smile of his.

Thomas held out his hand for the man known as Andrew to shake it. ‘And I’m Thomas Barrow.’

'Nice to meet you,’ Andrew said, definitely blushing this time, and Thomas smiled. The clockmaker may be tired and freezing his arse off, but Andrew seemed really sweet, and when Andrew smiled and did that little thing with his eyelashes Thomas’ stomach did backflips. Thomas hadn't felt this taken with someone in a long while.

'Is there anything I can do to repay you?’ Thomas said.

'Um, I was just heading on the train home, now. But… I could do with a sit down and a coffee after all that,’ Andrew said, and Thomas could hear the obvious invitation in his voice. This left Thomas feeling a little confused. Andrew was young and on a night out. It was good of him to help, but why did he want to spend more time with Thomas now that his moral obligation had been fulfilled?

'I know a place 'round here that could still be open,’ Andrew said, hands in his pockets and mouth set in a wholly unconvincing display of nonchalance. 'Y'know… If you’re interested. I mean, no pressure. You look like you have places to be.’

 _No thank-you,_ Thomas knew he should say. _I’m cold, I’m pretty tired out from the concert, I’ve got things to do in the morning, seven bloody ‘o’ clock, commissions, deadlines, dead romances, hang-ups, doubts, fears…_ But still, he found himself nodding.

'Alright,’ Thomas said carefully. 'That sounds good to me. We can definitely stay out for one more coffee.’

~*~

'I thought we were only staying out for one more coffee,’ Andy said, panting a little as Thomas rested his head on Andy’s bare chest.

'We did,’ Thomas replied, nuzzling Andy’s chest in a way that made Andy shiver. 'And then we went home, right?’ Andy laughed at Thomas’ last remark, kissing the top of Thomas’ head. Thomas felt the affection from the gesture hit him in waves.

The clockmaker leant up, wincing at the temporary loss of warmth as he turned out the light, pulling the covers over him and his bedmate properly. ‘The snowflakes all melted in your hair,’ Thomas mumbled, limbs shaking from exhaustion. He didn’t know where all of his earlier energy had come from. If he was tired before, then he was fit to pass out now.

On the other hand... He no longer had a headache.

Hell, he wasn't even craving nicotine just then.

'I thought you were gonna say you were going home when I asked you out,’ Andy said with a crooked smile, running his fingers through Thomas' hair for a moment. 'For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t.’

'You’re such an obvious flirt, I can’t believe I didn’t realise 'til we’d ordered our bloody drinks,’ Thomas said, chuckling a little to himself.

'I’m sorry, I-I’m always like that when I’m around someone I really like.’

'Well, it didn’t exactly turn out badly for you, did it?’

Andy laughed and shook his head. ‘No, no it didn’t.’

Thomas laid his head on Andy’s chest again and closed his eyes, already in and out of consciousness. ‘…I’ll give you a lift back home tomorrow, okay?’

Andy nodded. ‘Will I see you again?’

'Hmm. Depends. Do you want to see me again…?’

Andy breathed out a ‘yes’ that sounded so utterly sincere that it made Thomas’ heart ache.

'Alright. Okay, I’ll give you my number…’ Thomas stifled a yawn before continuing. 'We’ll go out for coffee. Maybe just coffee, next time. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression,’ Thomas said mock-seriously, listening to Andy’s quiet laugh in the dark.

'You’ve left a very good impression on me, as a matter of fact,’ Andy revealed, slipping his arms around Thomas properly.

'Good. I’m glad.’ There was a slight pause. '…Isn’t your jacket on the floor?’

'It doesn’t matter, it’s my brother’s anyway. It’ll survive the wear and tear.’

Thomas nodded, feeling tired to the bone. ‘Good night, Andrew.’

'G'night, Thomas.’

And they remained that way, wrapped up in each other, dreaming of what could be until the sun came up.

~*~

To Thomas’ quiet delight, Andy was still there in the morning, sat up in the clockmaker’s bed and scribbling down his phone number on a post-it note.

He’d drawn a little heart on the edge of the paper.

~f i n~


End file.
